Rocking off is one of the greatest elements of the surfing life and perhaps the only true method that exists of delivering cosmic justice to the VAL hordes.
We missed a trick after the recent footage was released of our VAL pal getting himself involved in a slow motion trainwreck on the north side of Sydney harbour.
It called for a long overdue essay on the rock jump, even if author Chas Smith in a recent Dirty Water podcast (mis) identified it as a mostly Australasian phenomena.
Rocking off is one of the greatest elements of the surfing life and perhaps the only true method that exists of delivering cosmic justice to the VAL hordes.
With the “democratisation” of tuberiding at Kelly Slater’s Surf Ranch the rock-off remains the one thing that cannot be celebrity faked or bought.
Some first principles can be elucidated.
A war on rocks, like a war on drugs, is unwinnable.
Therefore, efforts to arm yourself against mishaps and accidents are self defeating.
Booties are a particular abomination.
Cuts heals, broken bones knit, shame is a much more persistent affliction.
The rock-off is where the unstoppable force meets the immovable object, at least on a human time scale.
The explosive energy released when wave hits a rock ledge allows for tremendous drama. You can be vertical one second, ten feet in the air the next. Knocked over like a ten pin.
Nothing offers such a visual feast as the sight of human beings getting fucked over on a botched rock jump.
Of course, I don’t take (much) pleasure in seeing people get hurt and for the most part the ocean remains very kind to a botched rock offer.
Missing fins, cuts, maybe a broken bone is the usual size of it.
How does the VAL proceed?
Slowly, then quickly, or not at all. A walk of shame is no shame at all if the mind can’t figure out what to do.
And what the mind has to figure out is how to construct a mental map of reality and then formulate a plan to navigate that map in between waves.
In layman’s terms: pick a path, walk it, then jump.
It’s a dance move, essentially.
Choreographed to the millimetre.
Like every dance you don’t stop till the music stops and the music don’t stop until you’re in the water.
The common VAL mistake is to choke halfway through the dance.
You gotta move and keep moving.
Counter-intuitively, moving forwards, towards the apparent danger, is usually safer. If in doubt, jumping of some description is almost always the best option.
The worst option is freezing or attempting a late flee like a wounded animal.
Don’t do that.
I got caught flat-footed when asked on Dirty Water about botched rock-offs.
My phone was flooded with texts reminding me of epic fails, including one from my cuzzy bro, which I think serves a purpose to share.
We get a certain type of day here in late autumn, deep fall if you like.
Grey, cold with a massive swell from a close range storm. In this case, twelve-to-fifteen-foot at Lennox Point. A rock-off up there with the most heinous.
Three foot of foam covering rocks, walls of whitewater smashing in, six-foot sidewinders, thirty-yard suck-outs, total detonations on dry rock.
Horror show.
You don’t want to look at it because it’s ugly but you have to look to figure it out.
I’d borrowed my Bribie pal’s board, a prized 8’5” Brewer gun he’d dragged back from Hawaii.
He’d loaned it under extreme sufferance.
During the transaction we rolled up and got on the end of one too many. May, as well as being prime time for big surf, is also harvest season and while the local bush bud doesn’t have the knock-out of the hyge it still packs a punch for a lightweight like me.
So, I’m standing on the rocks, greening out. Thinking a little spell in the foetal position under the pandanus might be in order, but walking forwards instead, through foam to rocks I knew were there.
A big drain-out, step, step, hop, hop.
Now a wall of water is coming, step, step (a little slip) then jump. Sailing in the air, over the top of the oncoming wall of whitewater.
The forward momentum stopped.
I’m going backwards at the same speed I went forwards.
Huh?
I’ve bunjee jumped.
The fucking legrope is caught around a rock.
Now, I’m in the worst place in the world.
Looking up I see my pal. He looks very, very unhappy.
I get hit and smeared across the rocks.
My cuzzy bro is laughing.
I try and sacrifice my arse and hold the board up. I get pushed up the rocks then dragged down. Pushed up again, banged up all over.
Dragged, pushed, rolled. Hit. Hit many times.
And my pal is yelling,“Get the fuck off there!”
Well, I would if I could y’see.
I got a little break, put the feet down, felt that fine hot slice of barnacles through skin and jumped.
Out. No longer greened out. And the strategy had worked. I was bloodied, but the Brewer was intact.
Well, it creased later on when my pal rode it, which he blamed on me, but that was never proven.
Of course, when it comes to surfing rocky coastlines, what goes up must come down.
I think Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist Bill Finnegan takes the cake here.
In his memoir Barbarian Days he describes a session at Jardim do Mar in giant surf that goes very, very wrong when he and his pal are forced into a night-time exit from the ocean onto dry land, being smashed by walls of whitewater into a seawall and emerging half dead onto a mossy boat ramp.
Finnegan then details getting his balls memorably busted in the post-surf debrief by an elder Portuguese lady who accuses him of having “no respect for your family and friends… no respect for the generations of fishermen who have risked their lives to feed their families”.
It does sound a bit overwrought and scripted to be true, but even if it’s apocryphal it still tells a story of how rattled Finnegan was, of how he saw himself reflected by the local culture.
Have I persuaded, via this guide, a single VAL to abandon the noble art of rocking off?
Put your hand up, no-one will judge.
Well, that’s good.
And also bad, because it’s the best live entertainment going in this strange Covid time.
Rock-off stories below, pls.
Ain’t no fake it till you make it at the keyhole.. sorts out the pretenders.. fear is your enemy, good timing and judgement in between sets your friend.
Entrée from boulders at Burleigh when sizeable is very challenging!
Remember Paul Neilsen breaking his leg at Burlz one big day, wedged in the boulders!
Snapper off the rock, Ti Trees and Nationals slightly less daunting, but timing is everything!
Jumped off the point at second bay Coolum one fine day.. mistimed it slightly, due to bud puffing on the beach, and caught the fins on the rock mid leap.. result, 2 expensive, brand new FCS fins consigned to the depths!
Solid, clean waves that day, but unfortunately my trusty steed would not work with the one fin left, and had to paddle in!
Total bummer!
They were probably not born last time I was up there!
Comment not moved just “featured” at top of the thread but it’s still below where you first posted it and it definitely wasn’t edited?!?
I apologise for featuring it out of the context you originally meant, but I just loved it!
Ross Clarke’s rock-in at nazare has to take the cake. His legal team is still working through the fine print working out who to sue.
Whoever used Ross’ likeness, a to-pay away dead-ringer, and unlicensed use of Ross casted as Gargamel.
https://images.app.goo.gl/f…
Honolua is the all time Rock Shop … Jump off at The Grove and you could have a dry hair barrel 30 secs later, too scared? that’s probably good, so, you can try from ‘the beach’ as they call the tiny strip of sand next to the Cave, or, you can take the 40 minute paddle from The Ramp and literally work on your tan on the way out- but, everyone knows Honolua and The Jump there has been filmed before, but, this is Maui and just down the road is the inviting spot commonly known as Hole in the Head … just across The Channel from Baby Makaha The Hole has been hammering Haole Heads since they first made it over in the 60s … the best? Another clone OC blondie decides to ‘take his time’ and slow walk the rocks over the The Jump Off, well, that slow walking turned fast as he saw the NW Wall coming at him and heard The Crowd, some cringing but The Crew laughing their eyes out, anyway, he got dragged over I am thinking about 100 feet of Napili Point and was cut up and bleeding like a tomato[e] only to find out there is also only one Safe Exit and it is hard to find and difficult to use, so, more blood … yep, surfing some cool spots is a lot like a Roman Bread & Circus … yee haw hee haw … KNOW BEFORE YOU GO
Who can forget one of the most stupendous, near tragic, cataclysmic adjacent even, not to mention almost sorta Shakespearean megadeathic macbethic rock-off ever, that occurred as Michael Ciaramella rock-off’d on out of here, this Helter Skelter UnSheltered magical place, unencumbered by walls of positively posited post-its, instead trading in the snark for Stab n’ the Narc.
But Michael “Boltin'” Ciaramella had one heck of rock-off:
https://youtu.be/rxGuNJ-nEYg
Wow that’s almost 35 Florida man ft
Having surfed Jardim do Mar I can attest to its sketchiness. The moment I hit the water all I could think about was my exit strategy. My mates timed theirs perfectly and I headed for the algae covered ramp.I reckon I left nail marks that are probably still visible to this day. Either side is an 6 foot drop and rocks on Madeira are more like giant marbles. You can hear them clunking away. They`ve broken legs before. This was before they built the breakwall and wild horses couldn`t drag me out there now. Lovely scenery though.
Not a rock off story per se but involves rocks – when secret Sumatra first opened 13 years ago was there with perhaps second booking – we loved finding the peak largely a body board sea urchin shelf by way!!! Other breaks made for it thankfully
Anyway we would walk into Krui town and surf the left – super fun but actually at certain tides because it was almost a mushroom shaped reef if you were caught inside you were proper fucked.
Numerous days stood in perhaps knee deep water with 4 footers bearing down – all you could do was basically roll up in a ball hold board by rail turn around and then hope you didn’t connect with any boulders inside. My brother and I and another mate handled mostly unscathed – another mate basically snapped his ankle on a boulder trying to do same!!
Carried him in from water and over rocks – excruciating pain – the best part the whole village was in xray room while xrays done. He then spent 8 hrs over gravel road back another day or so in Padang, another day in Bali before home – all drugged to the eyeballs. Hardly surfed since!!!
Good stuff Longtom. Here’s one from the early 80s, surfing the mythical Tweed Bar, a goofy footer’s delight, serious waves. Wayne Deane turned us onto it. Enjoyed some memorable overhead sessions there. It used to be the longest best left hander on the Gold Coast, before the sand dredging machinery was built. Rock hopping down the north wall to launch and paddle out the river to get to the lineup was easy. Dry hair stuff. Only thoughts of danger was not wanting to have sight or contact with any bully traffic that might be passing by. Bar was best on low tide after the river had emptied and everything settled down. We’d time the session to be out there with the incoming tide. One day I was a little late. Tide was already coming back in, thick and fast. It was a full moon. Didn’t think much of it because I knew if we hurried, me and another goofy mate would still score an hour of good waves before the bar got too deep. First mistake was not thinking about the moon and tide some more. Second mistake was not observing the waves beginning to reform in the river. My mate hadn’t surfed the Bar and was naturally a bit hesitant. He remained on top of the wall looking down at me confidently scampering to sea level while urging him to follow. Half way down I noticed the look on his face change. Something wasn’t right. I turned and saw this massive rogue double up surging down the river, chewing into the entire north wall, top to bottom. Holy shit! I was caught badly in no-man’s land, gonsky for sure. Hurriedly looked around and saw a little grotto under a big square overhanging boulder. Ducked under it for cover just as this charging army of angry foam roared all over it. Last thing I saw was my mate looking at me as if he was watching someone about to die. Next thing was a white-out with a five second waterfall pouring over the boulder I was tucked under. Surreal moment. The energy then passed. I emerged without a scratch, almost still completely dry. My mate couldn’t believe it. Me neither. Thank goodness that boulder was there and held its position. I was still shaking with adrenaline paddling up the river on my freshly dinged board. But we scored our hour of surf nonetheless. Moral of the story, take nothing for granted. And always have a good long look at the bigger picture before paddling out, anywhere, even if it appears easy.
One time when I’d jumped off the end of big groyne Kirra in the mid ’80’s and had taken a dozen paddle strokes my left hand hit something rough and it moved.(where I knew there were no rocks or weed)
After another few dozen paddles I was in the ‘safe’ (ish) zone and looked back to see my mate (the ‘duck’) still standing on the rocks waving. I ignored him and got to surfing.
A few hours later in the carpark the duck asked me if I’d seen the shark passing the end of the groyne as I jumped in.
Of course I fuckin’ hadn’t, hence my jump (timed perfectly with the lull).
So I’m pretty sure I touched the shark…
P.S. The ‘duck’ was the same guy who backed over our boards a month earlier at Lennox after we’d been searched for contraband by the local cops
Hahahar – you bashed the shark !
As St Mick woulda.
Cmon beefy, you bashed it … gotta claim, cuz !
It was more like I stroked the shark hahaha
paddled off the beach last year on a 6ft E swell and ended up a bees dick from life and death.
anyone had a crack at Punta Lobos?
Well, might as well throw my 2 cents in, what stands out for me is, after you have negotiated everything, timed it and committed yourself and jumped, is that–‘initial sprint’– paddling like hell to get clear of the rocks while fighting the water flowing towards the rocks from the last wave, while looking for another in-coming set at the same time, and finally that relief you feel when you know you made it, ya, I made it, all clear–safe…..for now………
Some more: surfed an incredibly rare n fickle cobblestone point as a grom and put my feet over a nest of those itty bitty barnacles that shatter when you break them. Spent the next few days with foot Alternating between being covered in magnaplasm or in a bucket of hot water and dettol. Still love that smell.
Similar experience at a joint called Salsa Brava in Costa Rica. Put my foot down on what I thought was just normal rock shelf coming in. Was like stepping on an urchin.
Raglan for the first time last year, no horror story per se, but there is no majestic way through that trial of unsettled stones.
MB must be one of the easiest rock jumps I have ever had the pleasure of leaping from – mid to high tide its a dream setup. Unless you are foolish enough to follow behind someone who then dithers and you have nowhere to go. Rule one – never follow anyone until they have left the scene !
Ah yeah, straight out from that car park is a dream. Should have been more specific, the trek round to Indicators, on the low the rocks just keep going.
Wanted to show a mate how it´s done there and did the leash bungee. Got a nasty bruise on the back that kept me out of the water for a week.
I got a rock-in one: in the 80s we had a weird habit of wearing a wetsuit vest over our full suit. Me an two buddies, one who had a driver’s license, went to a reef break after school, January, north swell, Rock in, not too stressful, 9/10 times you’re fine, just jump on the back of one an paddle hard! This day, tide was on the rise, swell was cranking, and we enjoyed plenty good ones, and on the way in, as the sun set, it had gotten a little sketchy. There’s just us three by then. First guy up is good, scrambling up the rocks, each foot and hand placement like a dang ninja. Next buddy, he makes an eyes-closed berserker attack, loses his board, multiple dings, cut up, but finally reaches the summit. I’m last, I’m freakin, but I aim straight, paddle like a mofo, then quickly side saddle and grab my board to leap for the first foot hold. And then, the bottom drops out as a giant cleanup set sucks all the water out. I am about to be detonated, when I look up and a giant hand attached to a very long arm reaches all the way over the rock, grabs the stupid wetsuit vest I’m wearing, locks on with an iron grip and hoists me all the way up. One armed, as he still held his own board, my buddy, like some kind of super hero, he saved my sorry ass!
Thanks for making me remember this LT, I’m buying my bro a beer next time I see him.
Ya, always seemed like there was an easier place to ‘get in’ at, a beach down from the main break, or sometimes the incoming wave would fill in some shallow spots, but still, you had to have good timing.
Actually dinged up one board kinda bad coming in, just because I was so paranoid of getting caught by a set, and kinda used it as a buffer between me and the rocks, just to get in quicker……bad move….but I made it in………
You know, for awhile, I thought you were LT.
Older local Welly guy, who spent months every winter at Angourie, drowned rocking off there. Leggie got caught, and he was held under water 🙁
I’ve done the Finnegan, at the same spot as him, and every other variation of Madeira mayhem. The trick there is rocking on, though, more than off.
Coxos in Ericeira has the sharpest rocks with heaps of urchins, and an evil rock halfway down the point to snag and bash you.
Big east swell Lennox at high tide is bloody hard, though. Having to trust the surge to take you out across all those rocks that were bone dry just seconds ago, while jumping from the most slippery rocks known to man.
ooohh yeah, Coxos. Best place to paddle out is just behind that rock. Getting back in on a rising tide is even worse. A few of the alpha dogs there have a keyhole at the top of the point, never figured that one out.
In general I had way worse experiences getting back in than at the rock jump. You have the overview and time to suss everything out. Had to scale a 30m cliff in Portugal once after the rising tide blocked a keyhole, I left the board to dangle on the leash, I did not care anymore.
Finnegans Madeira part is the best in the book. I had to remind myself to breathe while reading it. I have no intention of riding these spots.
Would could forget shit-for brains trying to paddle out to the Bay from Three Tables rock shelf.
https://www.garagemovies.co…
I’ve seen people pull that. But they weren’t that guy.
Just not worth it especially when it’s so easy to paddle out thru the shorebreak from the inside corner.
Fresh off a flight to Brisbane, we rock up to Hillbilly point and run down the meadow track (I hope it still is a meadow LT).
New board for me, so I’m trying to put the leash string thing in and attach the cord as my friend ambles up the point for the spot I told him to jump.
I get there in time to see him in no mans land as the next set sweeps up the boulder field and he does the unthinkable…. bails his board. The board begins pinballing off every rock and by the time the next wave washes through, he’s lost at least 20 yards of position and is still not on his board.
I’m not sure I could have stopped laughing until I looked down at my fresh new stick… man, I better make a better decision. Rocks are slippery and pretty steep decline, but my timing was on and i jumped pretty easily and paddled against the river into the zone.
Buddy paddles up a good twenty minutes later and his board is a mess. I can not stop laughing, the waves are pumping and there are only 3 guys out.
Several hours later, we are nearly alone and he disappears down the point. I ask a kid how he gets in… I had surfed there several times before but not at this size and with a pushing tide. Kids says, see that small keyhole in there… belly up and don’t slip if there’s another wave behind you.
Sounded easy. Kid wraps up his session and his rock dance up the boulders was well rehearsed. Looked easy.
Well, I rode my last wave beyond the keyhole. Had to paddle back against the grain to get into position and at the crucial moment, I slipped off the first rock and my leg disappears into a hole. Extract the leg just in time and stumble my way up to safety scratching myself, but board in tact.
To this day I have a lennox scar on my ankle and a lump on my shin from that day.
Next day was bigger and my buddy wanted nothing to do with that entry/exit. “Let’s go to the Pass”… he was all about sand entries for a few days.
Hey LT, SD has very few venues to jump…. Chas lives in very benign beach break area. There are jumps round here and north. Saves so much time and mostly energy when the sweep is running hard.
Concrete track now
Boat ramp for VALS in the worx I’ll bet.
I hate the exit at that place Hippy once it has some size. I just drift down a bit these days and take the easier option in. Saves your feet and your board. I got my legrope caught around a rock coming in one day down the bottom of the point. Terrifying.